Livelihood's Satisfaction
by stranger.than.normal.strange
Summary: "Eames," Nina cooed as she carressed his cheek with her palm, the tone of her voice so kind and tender and vastly unlike the deception she's put him through. He feels nostalgic, this was the real Nina. His Nina. The floor beneath them crumbles away with the dream and Eames hardly hears her say,"It's nothing personal. It's just business." [ Eames/OFC :: one shot ]


**Livelihood's Satisfaction**

**Inception**

**Summary: **"Eames," Nina cooed as she carressed his cheek with her palm, the tone of her voice so kind and tender and vastly unlike the deception she's put him through. He feels nostalgic, this was the real Nina. _His Nina._ The floor beneath them crumbles away with the dream and Eames hardly hears her say,"It's nothing personal. It's just business."

**Genre: **Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **Rated T

**Notes: **Because I felt the need to write this. It's just a short little one shot and I probably won't do anything else with it so enjoy what's here and please review. And I'm awful at accents but I did a little research, and correct me if I'm mistaken, but for those who aren't big on accents like me for a Russian accent you pronounce your 'R's like you would in Spanish. Make any 'th' into 's' or 'z'. Put stress on the wrong syllables, like pronounce 'w' as 'v'. And also pronounce 'd' as 't', 'v' as 'f', and 'g' as 'k'. Like I said, I'm not sure. But hopefully that'll give my OC Nina a little character, that is if anyone is reading this..probably not.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Inception or Eames. The rights go to Christopher Nolan and all the others that helped to make the great film. I am claiming no rights whatsoever. Except of Antonina Novokoff, she's my creation.**

It was a dream.

And Eames knew that. But they were always like this, in some far away place where he had been with her, it was never anywhere new or created; it was someplace from his memory _every single time._ And that was dangerously stupid of him to do but it's not like he actually chose anything, it just happend without his control, so he really couldn't have any sort of assaying towards Cobb when he was no better. Worse even. At least Dom had an equitable excuse for why the same shade of a woman was occupying every dream that he had. His wife dying; a tragedy, that was something worthy of justification. A broken heart however was not.

A hand touched his shoulder, as if she knew that he'd been thinking of her, but he didn't turn around or give any sign that he'd taken notice of her presence. It wasn't possible though with her aroma of lemons and honey swirling into his senses, driving him to paradise at mock twelve. He remained impassive on the outside with much effort, frustrating him to no end how she was the only one who managed to tear apart that wall he'd set up around himself, the real Eames. Not the mask of so many different identities that he'd worn for so long to keep people on their toes. After all, he was a Forger. Together they'd been the Forger and the Architect.

He stared hard out at the ocean. They were in the suite at some exotic island that he remembered she'd had the most difficulty pronouncing correctly in her thick Russian accent. It had a huge king sized bed with fluffy feathered white pillows and a matching comforter, the burgandy of the mahogany bedset was exquisite, and a few plush chairs littered the large area but everything else was just creamy tan carpeting and walls. The sun was setting over the horizon, casting an enchanting orange glow about the room and giving just enough heat to be comfortable with the light breeze that blew in from the balcony, catching the thin white drapes in its dance. The waves crashing down at the beach only added to the vividity of the dream.

Another hand came to rest on his other shoulder before they glided down his back, going slowly over his tensed shoulder blades, and finally snaking around his waist."It's beautiful, is it not?" She whispered as her chin sat on his left shoulder, her hands stroking his abdomen.

His heart was hammering against his ribcage, he could feel her chest against his back and her hand movements were causing a stirring in his veins that he'd bloody well missed more than he realized. It wasn't just lust. No, he could only get this from his Nina.

Just the thought of her name - _Antonina Novokoff_ - made his stomach turn with the same feelings he'd been trying to sort out this past year. The heartbreak hit him all at once again.

He ignores her question. "Why did you leave me, Nina?" His voice is low, strained from the tightening in his throat, and he turned his face to see her for the first time. It's always like the very first time..

There she is in all her glory, and it's breathtaking to him. Her blue eyes, the soft blonde hair waving in the wind, none of it prepares him to hear his own name being spoken from her sweet lips."Do you really want to talk about this, Eames?"

He doesn't. Not anymore. But even if he did then his answer wouldn't have changed. The tone of her voice could persuade anyone. So instead silence resumes. His eyes shift back to the water.

"Eames." She speaks with such ease, it makes him envious that he struggles for the right words and stammers like a school boy yet she has such a calm demeanor in his presence. Her warm hands cup his face and force him to look at her, and in that moment with the desperate glint in her orbs and the setting feeling so damn _real_, he forgets any sense of reality. This is his reality right now and he'll deal with the consequences afterwards."Just kiss me." She sighs softly.

He doesn't give her the chance to ask twice as his lips are on hers and little bolts of electricity pulse as skin touches skin, his hands are everywhere trying to absorb all the curves, softness, and warmth that is purely Nina. _His Nina_. Her fingers begin to swiftly undo the small plastic buttons of his shirt and he notices how she seems to drink in the image before allowing him to recommence the ravaging of her neck with his mouth, quiet pants of approval escaping her. Out of all the women he had ever been with she was the only one who ever took the lead with a libidinous fierceness that had always awakened everything down South.

Until the moment it becomes a neccesity he hadn't paid any attention to what she was wearing and with a quick double take glance he sees the light silky white night gown she has donned on. Eames takes in every detail on her form, memorizing it for dreams (_isn't this a dream?_) and only stops when she kisses him again, tongue and teeth grazing eachother, their bodies so pressed together you couldn't fit a speck of dust between them. He groans, low and carnal, when her hips grind into his and they pull apart to catch their breath.

He still has his arms secured around her waist, hers are wrapped onto his neck, and their foreheads and noses are touching. This kind of embrace, so clumsily close and heated, is the only thing stopping him from carrying her over to the bed and giving in to the desires that bubbled hotly beneath the surface. Every breath she releases, he inhales and as the smell of her hair intoxicates him further she finally speaks, murmering against the side of his mouth."I'm yours. Whatever you want."

Eames eyes move to look up although she continues to press kisses along his jawline, but his blood has now ran cold, any evidence of physical arousal decreasing with each second. The room seems darker, less romantic, and cruel. _This_ was just cruel.

In the six years that he'd gradually come to know Nina from work on Extractions, especially when it came to bedroom rules, never before in their past encounters had she ever said that he could do whatever he wanted. It wasn't in her character..at all.

He gripped her wrist in his hands and violently shoved her away, if he could even say _her_. It could be him or her. He shuddered at the thought that someone was tainting his memory of her with a false identity.

Her eyes went wide with shock. _Oh, they were good.._

A part of him wondered how they'd found out about this place, the only people who had known about them being here was himself and Nina.

_Oh, no._

What if whoever was behind this had done something to her? He imagined her beaten, raped, or tortured, the possibilities were endless. His vision went red around the edges, the anger pitting into his gut, and he promised he'd kill whoever laid a finger on her.

He didn't wait for them to keep up the facade and ask what was wrong."The Nina I knew, _my Nina_, would never be submissive like that. And believe it or not, sweetheart, even in my wet dreams she's still the commanding little minx I know and love." Eames smiled despite himself and spoke in a much less playful voice, an obvious threat laced in the cool tone,"Now, clearly you're a Forger so who are you? And what are you doing in my mind?"

She laughed, soft and heavenly, and it sounds so much alike the one that made his day at one point in time, that he has to appreciate the work of a fellow Forger."My dear, Eames, I am an Architect. You know this."

His face fell. The well known mask he'd replaced was once again diminished to the vulnerability that hid underneath, he couldn't believe it, he didn't want to. The concept that _his Nina_ would go as far as this to betray him, it could only be to cause him more anguish than she already had, he'd never thought her capable of this extremity of cruelty. All at once he felt the heartbreak he'd endured from her but multiplied. Eames, tough as nails and smart arse Eames, had to bite the inside of his lip to keep it from quivering, his eye brows pulled together."Why?" Had he asked that out loud or just in his head? He couldn't tell anymore. The pain was too immense. He hadn't noticed before but the dream was collapsing, the ocean from below was raising at a frightening rate, a once soft breeze had turned into hurricane wind, the cream colored walls were splitting down the middle, bits of dry wall and debris falling from above, but he didn't move an inch. He couldn't.

"Eames," Nina cooed as she carressed his cheek with her palm, the tone of her voice so kind and tender and vastly unlike the deception she's put him through. He feels nostalgic, this was the real Nina. _His Nina._ The floor beneath them crumbles away with the dream and Eames hardly hears her say,"It's nothing personal. It's just business."


End file.
